One Flew East, One Flew West
by Mr. Deadman
Summary: ...One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. This is the story of Ian West, a confused young man, who battles between reason and desire. He struggles with the hunger and loses his mind, his family, and the life he knew.


A/N: Okay, this has been on my computer forever, lost among the archives of flopped stories. It's been years since Fallout 3, but here's hoping people still remember the game. So, anyway, this is my idea of what spurred Ian West to become what he was in the side quest "Blood Ties". Just a short, fun story.

* * *

He let the door shut behind him roughly. There was no latch to keep it closed and, on days like this, the wind would nearly tear the door off its hinges. At night, his father would lock it shut with the wooden peg attached to the frame. He wasn't quite sure why they bothered. Any Raider or like-minded individual could see how flimsy the shack's walls were and find more ease in just pushing them over. Random pieces of wood and tin should not compose a house.

"Ian, dear, don't stray too far." Matilda's voice rang out through the door. "Please."

Addressed by name, the boy responded gravely, "I won't, Mom."

He wasn't sure if he spoke loud enough over the wind, but then again, he didn't really care. It was as if nothing mattered to Ian. As if there was nothing there to be bothered.

A large gust cut across the bridge carrying with it the arid heat of the Wasteland. A faint aroma of death was present, but over the years, Ian had become acclimated. It wasn't truly an unpleasant smell…yet. Still fresh, he assumed.

Although dying is a natural part of living in the Wastes, it could be postponed by living safely with a group of other people. Ian lived in a settlement built of scavenged junk and placed on a few slabs of concrete held in the air by deteriorating pillars. This was Arefu. This collage of sheds contained a total population of seven and was quickly dwindling.

The boy shuffled forward, kicking about loose stones. A good sized pebble fell through a gap in the bridge, dropping 100 feet to the barren ground. He watched with fascination, not letting his gaze slip until it had completely faded from view. With morbid interest, he briefly wondered what it would be like to be that stone and to plummet knowing a gruesome fate awaited.

What was he thinking like that for? He shook his head, letting brown locks toss freely in the breeze. His attention focused to the left. Evan King's house stood there; the largest remaining one in Arefu. The massive two-story dwarfed the other buildings. Leave it to that self-important asshole to find the need in having such an impressive house for a family of one. It was really no surprise that he never married. Even when King was in his prime and this was actually a town, still no woman wanted to be with him.

Ian scoffed. Was that his future as well? Being a nobody with neither friend nor spouse?

Carefully skirting the partition, he continued walking down the overpass. Karen Schenzy's door creaked open, letting a sliver of daylight into the dank room. Her pale face appeared, resembling a ghostly apparition. "Ian? Where are you going?"

"Out, I guess." His eyes remained downcast. "I need to clear my mind."

"What will Evan King think of that?" She asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer. Suddenly her face lit up and she smiled brightly. "Can I come with you?"

He nibbled his bottom lip. "I think not. I'd like to be alone."

"Oh." She didn't attempt to mask her disappointment. "Just be careful. Okay?"

Twice now he had women coddling him. Was he still such a child? No. Children are not yet corrupt. But he was. There were more dark shadows cast on him then he would ever let on. Lucy knew. But to everyone else, he was an ideal son.

God, he missed her. Lucy. Why did you ever go away? He needed her more now than ever. Who else could chase away the nightmares? Who else could make the world stand still when his head was spinning into pandemonium?

His fingertips brushed the rusted metal frame of a shopping cart. He ran his hand down its length, absorbed in the intricate texture of corrosion. Ian sympathized with the weathered steel. He knew what it felt like to be eaten away, to change into something unwanted and to become unlike its intended mold.

Evan King spotted him first. "Boy, what do you think you're doing?"

Ian parted his lips but said nothing.

"You know how dangerous it is out there." King snapped.

He had become a grizzled old man with a personality to match. His baseball cap was lowered, keeping the midday sun out of his eyes. But Ian knew that King's stare was intense and heated.

"Do you want them to get you?!"

The boy decided an excuse was in order. "I'm going to stand with my father and wait for the caravan."

King pondered a moment. "I don't think that's a good idea. They slaughtered the Brahmin, I mean, who knows what they're capable of?"

"The Family doesn't come during the day. You know that." Ian began to think he was trying too hard. Did he really need to leave the security of the bridge? "Just let me go. I won't be long."

The old man's face wrinkled in deliberation. "Alright, fine. But you better stick close to Davis."

Ian attempted a smile of thanks, but only managed a somewhat dismal smirk. Oh, well. It was an attempt. He felt King's gaze on his back watching him as he stepped off the bridge. He was on his own now.

In front of him was a damaged billboard showing an advertisement of some sort of car. The words had long since become illegible, but the image remained the same. Ian paused momentarily before following the road left past an old abandoned house with a pen of dead Brahmin. That must have been what he smelled earlier.

The tar dissipated until he was left to a barren stretch of earth. This was as far as he was allowed. Beyond that was a world full of hate and cruelty, one that had bred the Family who sought pleasure in terrorizing Arefu. But it was that same foreign entity that had become a siren, luring his sister, his beloved Lucy, from him.

He wanted to know what she saw that was so enticing and exotic. Maybe he would see it too.

Ian set foot on the dry soil, beginning his journey east. The exhilaration seemed to lift his leaden heart and erase the chronic pain of hopelessness. Was this all he needed? To leave Arefu?

An edifice pierced the horizon, its exposed beams and naked walls forming a beacon of hope. With lightened step, Ian increased his pace and began to jog towards the building. He wondered what kind of place this was and if anyone lived there. He abruptly stopped. What if the residents were Slavers? Or Raiders? He had heard the adults mention a Bed & Breakfast near the settlement. They said it was a Raider camp and that they would torture and kill anyone who drew near.

Ian's thoughts were interrupted by a deep roar followed by gunfire and an ear-splitting scream. The boy fell to the ground instinctively. A muffled growl emanated from the collapsed building. Ian dared himself to lift his head and witness the results of the confrontation. He couldn't see anything.

Habitually, he bit his bottom lip. He wanted to see what happened. Drawing his arms close, he began to crawl on his belly toward the scene. Careful not to draw attention to himself, he moved unhurried, hiding behind rocks when he could. Progress was slow, but soon he found what he wanted.

Although he wished he hadn't. The aroma of blood clouded his senses, seeping into the taboo recesses of his mind. There were bodies everywhere. Five, maybe ten, he couldn't be sure. Only one remained intact, the others were in pieces. A pair of monsters was leisurely tearing off strips of flesh. Ian recognized them: Yao Guai.

The larger beast snarled, blood saturating the fur of its muzzle. The bulky head tilted and dove down under the ribcage, gaining access to the delectable organs. A face devoid of any notable features stared back at the boy crouching behind a boulder.

Ian's heart was pounding against a chest saturated in sweat. His skull felt like it was splitting open. He wanted to scream, but couldn't. No.

It wasn't fear that held him now.

NO! He bit down on his lip, a warm red liquid seeping into his mouth, tasting of copper. The essence drove him over. Ian felt himself slipping. He had fought so long to keep this hunger under control, he couldn't lose it now!

Squeezing his eyes shut, he held his breath and began to count. One. Two. Three. Four. Fi-…what comes next?

Easing an eye open, he watched the Yao Guai grab a piece of meat in their burly jaws and leave for the hill. His head began spinning and his vision blurred until he could no longer see the departing monsters. Then there was blackness…

* * *

Ian watched himself walking on the bridge, struggling home. He knew something bad was going to happen, but he could do nothing to stop it.

As he entered Arefu, he saw Evan King's mouth move, but he couldn't hear. There was just the sound of his heartbeat. King attempted to take hold of Ian's elbow, but the boy shied, slamming into the corner of the Ewers' house. He grit his teeth and shook off the old man. No…

He resumed his trek, glancing back to ensure he wasn't being followed. King looked bewildered, but sat down at his post taking up guard again.

Ian stepped over the gap in the cement that the stone had fallen through. It seemed like such a long time ago. As he approached his house, he let his hand fall on the doorknob. Don't go in. Don't go in.

Lowering his head, he opened the door and entered the dingy shack. His eyes adjusted slowly to the dim glow produced by the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. He scanned the small room finally coming to rest on his mother seated in a chair next to the bed.

"Ian, how was your walk? Tell me you didn't leave town." Matilda voiced her concern.

He ran his tongue over the dried blood crusted to his bottom lip. Please don't do this. Please.

His mother stood up and walked closer. "Dear? Are you feeling alright?" She put a hand on his shoulder.

Ian looked up at her; a wild hunger had consumed him. He growled and took her wrists in both hands. With unknown strength, he dug his nails into her skin and forced her to her knees. Matilda opened her mouth to scream just as her son grabbed her neck. He tightened his grip, cutting off her gasps.

She stared up at him, eyes swelling with tears. Was she afraid to die? Or was it because this was her son killing her?

He slid down next to her, still keeping hold. Ian shook his head, fighting. Stop. Stop! STOP!

His teeth found her throat. He bit into her windpipe, just below his thumbs. Her body tensed and she tried desperately to pull him off, but to no avail. Ian continued to bite, pulling and tearing at her flesh just as the Yao Guai had done.

Her blood tasted sweet…familiar. He had eaten before, just as he was doing now. But it wasn't really him, was it? Gnawing on his mother's body, lapping up her life-force. He was somewhere else…not here…the cause of such carnage.

Matilda's body began to go limp. Her hands let go of her son's arms and fell to her side. She was being held up only by Ian's grip on her.

As her weight fell heavily on his hands, he pulled back, letting her drop to the floor. With wide eyes, he absorbed the atrocity he had committed. No.

Ian breathed in the intoxicating fragrance of death. Instantly he felt the hunger rise again. He wanted more. Bending over, he let his lips brush her soft skin, teasingly.

The front door swung open. "Matilda, you won't bel-"

Shocked, Davis West stood over the body of his wife and her killer. He had stiffened, finding himself unable to move. Ian jumped to his feet, blood covering his mouth. Spurred by an insatiable craving, he turned to his father and leapt, putting in his full weight and shoving Davis against the broken refrigerator.

Replaced by a feral beast, Davis futilely tried to reason with his son despite the youth's teeth at his throat. As his own life was threatened, he began to fight back. He struck at Ian, trying to pry his mouth off his neck, getting bitten deeply in the process. But as he pushed away from his child, his head flung backwards hitting the corner of the refrigerator with a sickening _clunk_ and he collapsed to the floor, slipping into unconsciousness.

Ian knelt beside him, unfazed by the bruises and cuts he had received during his struggle with his father. He began stroking his cheek. His fingers traced the outline of his jaw leading to the contours of his throat. So wonderful…

* * *

Ian woke to a gentle rap at the door. Startled, he looked wildly around the room and stopped at the sight of his parents…dead.

"Ian? May I speak with you?" A man's voice called in.

He had withdrawn into a dark corner of the house behind the bunk beds. With much effort, he managed to stand on wobbly knees. He staggered toward the door, using the wall for support. "Who is it?"

"Merely a friend. I believe I can assist you…help you." He responded.

Ian closed his eyes, hoping it would all disappear when he opened them again. Some small part of him believed it was all a nightmare, but when he did, it was still there. Anger and despair brewed frustration. He threw open the door causing the shack's walls to tremble. Let the stranger see, let him judge and punish.

The man at the door gave him a gentle smile and stepped inside, but not enough to become a threatening intrusion. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Vance."

Tears weaved their way down Ian's face. "You're with the Family, aren't you? Kill me. Please."

Vance stared apologetically. "I am sorry. I cannot do that. But what I have to offer will prove far more gratifying. Are you willing to listen to me, Ian?"

"Yes." He managed between sobs. "Just make it go away."

"It will all be resolved. But you will have to trust me." Vance put his arm around Ian's shoulders. "Come with me. I will give you somewhere to belong. I will give you a family."


End file.
